


Bound

by nowjkjkjklololol



Category: Court of Darkness - Fandom, 魔界王子と魅惑のナイトメア | Makai Ouji to Miwaku no Nightmare | Court of Darkness (Visual Novel)
Genre: COD - Freeform, F/M, Fenn is a troll, Grayson - Freeform, I’m awful at tags I’m so sorry, New Relationship, bound and gagged, court of darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowjkjkjklololol/pseuds/nowjkjkjklololol
Summary: Set after the Grayson story in the ‘Darkly Seductive Dreams’ event, inspired by a thread in our Discord server.Fenn seeks help in getting Grayson to ‘loosen up a little.’
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Part 1

“Master Luxure, really, this has gone well beyond- mmpf!” Grayson’s plea to his captor was cut off as Fenn pushed something into his open mouth, preventing anything further beyond muffled, increasingly upset sounds. An airy laugh filled the dark, quiet space as Grayson began to test the bonds restraining his hands together behind the back of the chair he’d been tricked into; the Luxurean prince was clearly confident in the knots he’d used to secure Grayson in place, and did nothing to stop the struggling.

“My, my, dear Grayson, you have no need to fight so.” Fenn’s tone suggested that he was fully aware that his words would be of no real comfort to the normally stoic valet who was now snarling unintelligibly at him through his gag, but was enjoying the game immensely. He leaned in, draping his arms loosely over Greyson’s shoulders and bringing their faces so closely together that it caused Grayson to still so as not to accidentally bring their lips together with his movements. 

“You’re always too tightly wound. It would do you well to just relax and enjoy yourself every now and again.” His breath caressed the valet’s cheek like a phantom touch along with the suggestive words murmured while his gaze remained locked with Grayson’s. Violet eyes delighted in the sight of Grayson swallowing hard, but then he turned his face away and Fenn slipped into a graceful pout. “Don’t you find my attentions enjoyable?” When his captive did not give him the reaction he was after, he sighed deeply as if put out by the lack of participation and shook his head sadly.

“We could have such fun together, but alas, I’ve just remembered I have some business to attend to. Perhaps you’ll reconsider during your wait.” Grayson’s eyes grew wide as he realized what Fenn meant, but it was too late; the prince was already strolling away, wiggling his fingers in a farewell to the bound and gagged valet. “I shan’t be long! Be a dear and wait for me, won’t you?” His laugh was the last thing Grayson heard before the door closed and he was left along in the dark, unable to do anything but wait as ordered.

—-

“Treasure! Just who I was hoping to see!” Fenn sauntered up to Angel as she stood chatting with Sherry and Rio outside the refectory, wrapping an arm around her waist and settling his chin onto her shoulder. She laughed, turning in such a way that it prevented him from pressing his cheek flush against her own; it was all the more enticing that she seemed to resist all his charms. An infuriatingly appealing game to play, both similar and distinctly different from the game of cat and mouse he liked to play with Knight and Grayson... Fenn’s mind ground to a halt and then began to race with an absolutely delicious plan that was starting to form.

“What do you need, Fenn?” she asked, and Fenn let his lips curl into an alluring smile. Ignoring the growing skeptical looks her royal companions were giving him, he gave Angel a troubled look, hoping to appeal to her seemingly constant desire to help others.

“I was hoping I could ask you to help me with something. I would like to borrow your unique talents in solving a rather sensitive problem I’m attempting to address.” He gave her a weak smile, looking chagrined for needing to ask her assistance, and he watched her chew her lip as she thought it over.

“Uh...sure. I mean, if I’m the only one that can help...of course! Lead the way.” A triumphant grin spread over his incredibly gorgeous features, and he nodded and drew away, taking her hand as he did so. Angel gave a parting wave to the others, but let herself be drawn forward by the prince of Luxure, going along with complete compliance. Ah, they made it so easy sometimes.

“Thank you, treasure, you really are a gem.” He gently pulled her along, further and further, through corridors he knew she would be unfamiliar with. “I’ve come to the conclusion that my lack of progress in this regard must simply be because I’m the wrong one to be trying.” He finally stopped them in one of the private workrooms, typically left unrequested due to its inconvenient position. He unlocked the door and then pushed it open slightly before stepping back with a gesture for her to enter. “I’ve left it exactly as knotted up as it was when I left,” he sighed dramatically, and bit back his grin as she stepped inside.

—-

Grayson had frozen cold as soon as he’d heard Fenn’s voice from beyond the door and realized he was talking to someone else. Hells, he could hardly bear the thought of the _mortification_ he would at suffer if Fenn was bringing Prince Roy down to retrieve him. Then again, who else could it be? At least his master’s arrival would mean his freedom. And then the door opened and in walked someone who made him question whether this was a nightmare or a dream; perhaps another spore-induced half-fantasy or a drunken hallucination? Had he been drinking? Because into the room was stepping Angel, looking at him with eyes wide as saucers and mouth formed into a tiny, perfect ‘o,’ just as surprised to see him as he was her.

A pleased bark of laughter preceded the sound of the door clicking closed behind her, and she jumped and spun around to see that Fenn had indeed closed them both in. They then both heard the unmistakable sound of the lock turning.

“Fenn!” she shouted, running the few steps back to the door to ineffectually tug on the unrelenting handle. “What are you doing?!” Fenn’s voice came through the door, loud enough for them both to hear.

“Our dear Grayson is always so tense, rigid, yet nothing I do seems to shake him of it. Then it came to me; he protected you from the mushrooms in the forest, did he not? Such bravery, for you...maybe it’s you who will be able to break through to him.” Grayson closed his eyes, wishing to disappear in that moment. For Fenn to pull Angel into his mischief, especially so soon after he’d finally realized his feelings for her...mortifying. Worse than if it had been his master by far. And still, Fenn was not done.

“I simply request that you figure out a way to _loosen him up._ ” The implications were thick in his tone, making it abundantly clear exactly what kinds of things he was implying she do. Grayson felt his face heat up, and he made a strangled sound of protest which was left much less imposing by the fabric in his mouth. “I’ve made it so that you won’t be able to untie him - at least, not with _your_ magical abilities - until you’ve done so.” 

For a second, it was as if his heart had stopped. This...was not happening. In a long, slow motion, Angel turned to look at him. It was like she was only just fully taking in his position; he saw her eyes widen and her lips part on a long, shaky intake of breath as she took in the sight of him disheveled, bound to a chair, and gagged. Surely he must look pathetic and weak; this was _not_ what he wanted the woman whom he harbored deep, sincere feelings for to think of him. This was not how he wanted her to come to him, coerced by another man. He’d only just committed himself to taking his pursuit of her slowly. Now her hand was being forced, and he seemed to have no say in the matter. She, however, did not share the latter problem.

“Wha- That’s...Fenn, not all of us jump right into that sort of thing! That’s a little...” Fenn’s chuckle drifted to them through the door, full of teasing and mischief.

“Goodness, while that _is_ quite a way to unwind, surely that’s not the _only_ thing that could be done to help poor Grayson out.” Angel flushed scarlet, an invitingly appealing look on her, and hurriedly dropped her gaze while Fenn only laughed louder. “I’ll return in an hour or so to see if you’ve made more progress than I was able to. Best of luck, treasure!” Footsteps indicated his departure, and then the room was left in silence for a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity. 

Grayson stared up at her, unable to say anything, and she stared back, clearly completely unsure of what to do. Every second that passed was a painful blend of embarrassment and...he clenched his eyes shut against the sting of rejection. Ridiculous, she wasn’t declining his invitation to anything, this was all Luxure’s doing.

“Grayson, oh no, what can I-“ Her hands fluttered anxiously as she took a hesitant step closer, cutting off her own words with a grimace as the conversation with Fenn seemed to replay for both of them. This was so incredibly uncomfortable. _Not_ the way he wanted her to feel with him. Did she even want him like that? Every real physical interaction they’d had seemed to be on the tail of some magical intervention ...perhaps it was his own desire that allowed him to convince himself of her interest. She’d seemed so earnest, though, when he’d come to her in her room...his insecurities and vulnerability tore at him. He lowered his head, avoiding her gaze and hoping to alleviate her of some of the guilt she must feel at her helplessness.

At least, that’s how he imagined she’d felt, until he felt a hand settle tentatively on his shoulder, and he jerked his eyes up to see her leaning over him, chewing on her lower lip in concern. Their faces were less than a foot apart, and once he had met her stare, he could not escape it.

“Are you alright?” she asked, and then her eyebrows drew together in frustration. “Surely this isn’t part of your bonds.” The last part was murmured to herself as her other hand reached forward to gently tug the gag from his mouth. He worked his stiff jaw for a second before trying to clarify that none of this was a ploy on his part to put her in this position.

“Miss Angel, you should never have been involved in Master Luxure’s deception. I deeply apologize for the situation he has placed you in. Please, do not concern yourself over this.” His words were pouring out uncharacteristically, but Angel had made no move to speak, and so he was unable to prevent them from continuing. “Surely, he will grow bored and release us eventually. You need not feel undue stress over his ultimatum. I am fine.” 

Something in those last words sparked a change in her, but Grayson could not determine at first why. Resolve formed in her expression and her jaw set stubbornly; the poor man had no idea what he could have said to earn her disapproval. She did not make him wait for an answer.

“No, you know what? Maybe Fenn’s right...in a way. Grayson, he magically tied you to a chair! You certainly don’t _look_ fine. Yet the first thing you did when you could speak was to try to _apologize_ to me.” She shook her head and took a deep breath, then leveled a tentative smile at him that sent little flutters of something warm through his chest. “You should let someone else try to take care of you for a change.”

Grayson’s mouth was immediately bone-dry as his thoughts attempted to run away with him. What was she implying, given the current predicament? What exactly was she proposing? He tried desperately to shove the ensuing mental images out of his mind.

“How exactly would you...” Grayson tried to ask, but his voice came out far rougher than usual, and it made Angel smile playfully. She left her hand on his shoulder as she drifted around him to stand behind his chair, sliding her free hand atop his other shoulder as she came to a halt. 

“Well...I’m sure your arms are sore, being stuck like that for so long. I could...see if this helps?” Her fingers began to knead at the muscles under them, gently at first but growing more firm and purposeful as she became confident in her motions. It was almost painful at first as his taut muscles protested, but that quickly turned into a soothing, pleasant warmth that started deep in his tissues and bloomed quickly to fill him entirely. A low groan slipped from him, audible despite him choking it off as soon as he realized his error, and Angel’s hands stilled.

“Does that hurt?” she asked softly, worried for him. Grayson scrambled to answer her, torn between the desire for her hands to resume their work and intense discomfort at the unfamiliarity of someone focusing their attentions on him like this. Especially her. It felt _too_ good.

“N-no, but,” he tried to regain his composure, but it was staggeringly difficult when her fingers were drifting slowly up, climbing to his collar and tracing the line of it so delicately that it tickled the small hairs at his nape. “I am loathe for you to trouble yourself so.” Any further explanation he could have given her was immediately erased as her fingertips abandoned his collar to skim up his neck and lace their way into his hair. 

“Is it because...it’s me who’s touching you? Do you not want me to...” She trailed off slowly, and the hands that had been toying with the strands of his hair began to withdraw. No! He did not want her to taste the bitter sense of rejection he himself had only just felt. 

“It’s not- I simply...do not wish for it to be an obligation put upon you.” She did not speak, but her fingers sank back into his hair. Why? Was she so stubborn to fulfill her sense of duty? Her nails scraped gently across his scalp as she began to card through his locks, and he subconsciously leaned up into her touch.

“I thought you understood after...well, you know, but...I _like_ touching you,” she hummed softly, and her words made his heart pick up in tempo. “Ever since that night, I- I’ve found myself thinking about kissing you. Wanting to touch you.” Grayson felt like he was on fire. His skin was too tight, the bindings on his wrists somehow suddenly more restrictive than they were before. The idea that she wanted him, wanted _them,_ wanted... “Was that saying too much?” Her question was asked hesitantly, but her hands slid back down the sides of his neck to fall forward onto his chest, and he briefly wondered if she could feel how his heart raced beneath her touch.

“No, I-“ Grayson sucked in a sharp breath; one of her hands was fiddling with his necktie, fingers nimbly shifting it looser. “I want the same. Yet I would want you to be the one to make the choice, not-“ Words failed him again as his top button was undone and those deft fingers were suddenly stroking delicately at the newly revealed skin.

“Maybe I should be grateful to Fenn,” she mused, unbuttoning a second button with one hand while her other explored further down his chest. “For giving me the opportunity. I probably wouldn’t have gotten up the nerve on my own...but the choice to do this now is mine, not his.” A third button undone, and suddenly both her hands were on his chest, gliding smoothly over him, kneading in some places, almost tickling in others. Grayson bit his lip, trying not to voice his immense pleasure at her touch as her words sank in. She wanted this; not just because she felt like she must, but because she found pleasure in doing so. He shivered when she skimmed her nails _oh_ so lightly over one of his nipples, and then she drew away, hands sliding out of his shirt and off of him completely.

“Angel,” he groaned, not entirely sure himself if he was questioning her departure or begging for her return, and then she was back in front of him again. 

“How does it make you feel?” she asked, leaning forward to meet his eyes with a searching look. “I understand that you didn’t exactly sign up for this, either. If you don’t want to be touched or messed with further in these circumstances, that would be okay. I could just leave you alone, or see if I can get out of here or call for help or-“ Her concerns were wholly misplaced. His only reservation to pursuing her intimately had been the fact that they were not paramours, but...she was as much as saying that she wished for them to be, was she not? 

Her sweet scent was filling his senses, making it hard to try to think about this rationally. The memory of her body, soft and warm and naked against his, swam in his head. He wanted...no, _needed_ to feel her. Dash all his notions of savoring the chase, he was burning for this woman, and here she was asking him how it felt when she-

“Please,” he gasped out on a ragged breath, “if you don’t object...please touch me.” Even as he showed her his weakness, his lack of control, her smile grew brighter. She reached out, combing his hair back from his face as she leaned in, so close he could almost taste her. Grayson’s hands twisted futilely in their confines behind his back, a desperate response to the urgent need he had to reach for her, to pull her close. The hand that was not twisted into his hair stroked down the expanse of his chest she had already exposed, eyes following the path her fingertips traveled with a hungry expression. 

A feeling deep inside him stirred; she was hungry for _him._ And here he’d been served up to her like a present, begging for her; he couldn’t even find it in himself to feel properly ashamed at his desperation as she began pushing his shirt off his shoulders, forcing the last few buttons apart in her haste. The fabric pooled around his elbows, unable to fall further, and once she had bared his torso completely before her, she paused with a satisfied hum. That sound...he wanted to hear more. An urge to tease her, to please her, to somehow satisfy her desire the way she was for him, overtook him suddenly. He looked up, catching her eye.

“Would you indulge me?” he asked, and was rewarded by how her eyes darkened with her lust as she appraised him, revealing a slow, sultry smile.

“Most definitely,” she answered, and then surprised him by swinging one of her legs over his and climbing into his lap, hands holding onto his shoulders for support. She pushed him back, leaning forward until her chest pressed against his, only fabric between them as her arms pulled them closer. Grayson felt himself responding to her body’s silent demand, and the heat of her above him frayed the modicum of self control he was clinging to. His arms flexed and strained as he mindlessly fought to feel her soft skin beneath his hands, and when Angel noticed, she pouted at him.

“I thought I was the one doing the work. You just relax...and let me take care of making you feel better.” For a second Grayson caught a fleetingly shy, sweet expression on her face, until her eyes dropped to his lips and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. The hand in his hair moved to cup his cheek, then held him in place as she claimed the last few inches between them and pressed their lips together.

When she kissed him, Grayson’s last clear thought was that he would unfortunately owe the Luxurean prince for the rest of his days to have been given this moment. Then she began moving her lips against his in such a way that he could think of nothing else but her. Her body above him, braced on his shoulders and chest and hips, so soft and warm and enticing. Her hands, one still holding him in place along his jawline, the other curling into his hair from behind, tugging gently to deepen their kiss. And her lips, plush and molding to his until he responded and she melted against his tongue, sweet as candy. 

Quickly, Grayson found himself panting for air, heart racing and wholly enamored by the breathy moans and murmurs that fell from Angel’s lips every time they broke apart. Whenever she shifted in his lap to change the angle of their kiss, be it accidentally or a tease, she ground her core directly against his manhood, already straining within the confines of his trousers; surely he would lose his sanity before this whole ordeal was over. He did not know for how long he could be expected to endure this sort of blissful torture, but he was willing to last as long as he could for her. 

When her teeth nibbled his lower lip, sharp and unexpected, before sucking it into her mouth, a deeply needy groan left him. It seemed to encourage her; the kisses she was giving him grew urgent and demanding. Her nails raked down his neck to clutch at his shoulder before she rolled her hips firmly in his lap, and his uncertainty about her intentions evaporated; she knew exactly what she was doing to him. It made his chest tight, knowing that she _felt_ him, and that it excited her to do so. He canted his hips up to meet her the next time she did it, and her eyes closed as she tossed back her head, nails digging in slightly as a soft cry was drawn from her parted lips.

“Well, well, treasure. It would seem you came around to my way of thinking after all.”

The unexpected and wholly unwelcome voice that intruded upon them from only a few feet away made Grayson’s eyes snap open only to find Prince Fenn leaning on his cane and watching them with a smug smile.

“Fenn!” Angel gasped, struggling to compose herself and stand as her face turned scarlet in embarrassment at being caught. “How long have you just been standing there watching us?!” Her words did nothing to repel Luxure’s grin, and he ambled closer as if he were invited.

“Oh, don’t mind that, I just popped in to see if you’d managed to accomplish the task only to find you’d surpassed my every expectation. I should like to try having you find me in such a state next time, if you’d be equally devoted to the task.” He rested a hand on the back of Grayson’s chair, giving the pair of them a look that had Grayson stifling the urge to lash out at the man. “Since you’ve handily achieved your goal, I think you’ve earned this.” He reached down, pulling here and there to release the ropes binding Grayson in a matter of just a moment. As the valet pulled his arms forward, stretching tired muscles, Angel stared open-mouthed at Fenn.

“Wha- but you...what about the magic?!” she finally stammered out, and Grayson felt his eyes widen as he turned his head to stare at Fenn, who looked absolutely delighted with himself.

“Ah, that. There was none, I just didn’t want you spoiling the game and setting him loose. Think of what we’d all have missed out on if you had just checked them.” Fenn’s teasing had the effect of knocking the pair of them into a stunned silence as he sauntered towards the door. Just before exiting, he turned back to them with a wink. “I’ll be off, unless you’ll let me stay and join in the fun?” Even Grayson blushed slightly at the clear implication, making Fenn laugh as he departed, “Then I’ll see you both later. Thank you again for your help, treasure!”

When the door closed behind him, silence filled the room as Angel and Grayson stared at one another for a long moment. Then Angel began to giggle.

“I guess...I never did try...” Her laughter was beautiful, and infectious; Grayson began to chuckle as well at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, even as a ticklish feeling settled into his chest. Angel stepped in close when he stood and shrugged his impossibly wrinkled shirt back onto his shoulders and, to his surprise, she began buttoning it for him, looking at her fingers working over his chest rather than meet his eye. Then, almost shyly, she asked, “Would you...like to come back to my room with me?”

Would he...As soon as the words sank in, her meaning, the change in their situation...Grayson found his hands on her, one wrapping around her waist and the other under her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“I would be honored to,” he murmured lowly, heart full to bursting and pounding in anticipation, before he leaned down and brought their lips together again.


	2. Epilogue

When Angel finally led Grayson into her room, her heart was already fluttering frantically, and truthfully had been since she’d first walked into that room and found him tied to a chair. It was the sort of thing she would never have imagined in her wildest fantasies, and yet now that she had the sight firmly embedded in her brain, she knew she would find herself returning to it often. _Grayson,_ tied to a chair and looking up at her, begging her to touch him. She would be fanning herself even now from the thought alone, but her hand was held tightly within the valet’s larger one and had been for the entire length of time it had taken him to escort her back.

As soon as they were both through the door, Grayson pulled it closed behind them, and anticipation filled the room swiftly, almost palpable in its intensity. No one would be interrupting them here. Grayson moved first, stepping nearer and letting his arms encircle her, tucking her head under his chin as he embraced her.

“No matter what else you may allow, I consider myself lucky to be able to hold you like this,” he murmured against her hair, one hand settling at her lower back and urging her closer, arching her body into his. “I really did intend to pursue you in a gentlemanly fashion. I hope you know how deeply my affection for you runs.” Angel angled her head back to meet his soft gaze, and as a warm, comforting feeling grew, guilt needled at her alongside it. Was he trying to say he wanted to slow things down? She had asked, but...the situation was different now, and she was sure he must be feeling rattled after Fenn’s little ‘prank.’ Wincing, she tried to voice her concern for him.

“I’m sure this whole thing has been such an ordeal for you, Grayson,” she began, but in a show of uncharacteristically good humor, he began laughing, bringing a hand up to cradle the side of her face.

“I wouldn’t quite call it that,” he responded, rubbing his thumb gently across her cheek with a look that sent butterflies rioting inside her. Still...

“But you were _tied to a chair_ for who knows how long, that’s gotta be stressful at the very least.” His hand shifted, tracing the line of her jaw down to her chin and then using it to angle her face further towards him.

“I think it has more to do with who it is who has you captive,” he answered, and the way he was staring at her made Angel shiver. There was something about that considering look paired with a mischievous half-smile that had her stomach tightening with nervous anticipation. “When _you_ were my captor,” he continued, dropping a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose for emphasis, “I would hardly describe that as ‘stressful’.” Angel felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks the longer Grayson kept her within his gaze, yet she didn’t want to turn away from him.

“O-oh really? Well, I’m glad it wasn’t so...bad...?” Grayson brushed his thumb over her lower lip as she was speaking, causing her to falter, but his eyes remained on her lips with his fingertip.

“It wasn’t bad at all,” came his reply, then he finally dragged his line of sight back up to hers right as he asked, “Would you like to see for yourself?” For a second, Angel’s heart seemed to stop, and then it picked up and began to hammer wildly.

“Wha- but, uh- mmn...” As she stammered, trying to find words to explain her jumbled, half-formed thoughts, Grayson took advantage of her momentary confusion to bring their lips together once more. This kiss was sweet, taking nothing and giving her a steady comfort that settled her immensely. She didn’t notice that he was slowly walking them backward, so absorbed in the way his lips were moving against her own, until she felt the backs of her legs bump into her bed.

“Only if you like,” Grayson said seriously, easing back to meet her eye with a solemn expression. “I assure you, you will be safe with me.” Then he paused, catching a lock of her hair between his fingers and toying with it while he waited for her to think it over. Ever patient, ever unthinkingly generous; it went a long way towards making Angel relax enough to really consider the offer.

She _had_ enjoyed that little rush she’d received upon feeling Grayson struggling beneath her as she kissed him, desperate to touch her but held back from doing so, giving her all the control over what he was allowed to feel. Grayson would probably have similar feelings, and being the one in complete control might be a welcome shift for him from the ‘captive’ position he’d just held. Besides that...she _could_ trust Grayson, _did_ trust him, and knew she could put this in his hands without fear. 

“Okay,” she said once she’d come to her decision. She smiled up at Grayson, hopeful that she was showing him that she was putting her trust in him implicitly here. “Show me.” Grayson’s answer was to kiss her, much more urgently this time. 

This kiss stole her breath and sent a giddy thrum of heat coursing through her. She was vaguely aware of the hand at her waist moving, the fabric shifting slightly, but nothing could really draw her attention from how his tongue teased its way pst her lips to seek out her own. He leaned further against her, and he caught her when she began to fall backwards, tripped by the bed behind her and his approach. He laid her down gently, then took her hand in his, drawing it up over her head along with him as he crawled into her bed after her and kneeled with a leg on either side of her waist. The sudden slide of something silky and unexpected along her wrist made her jump, but before she could look, Grayson claimed her lips to distract her. Angel felt the silky material wind around her a few times before his hand and lips released her.

“Your other hand?” It was voiced as a question, but it sounded like an order, and it came as such a shock that she obeyed without hesitation. Once her hands were together, her other wrist was quickly secured as well, and when Grayson finally moved back down, Angel found her hands unable to follow. “Too tight?” Grayson asked softly, eyes skimming over her and searching for signs of discomfort. She laughed lightly as she gave him an easy grin.

“It’s perfectly fine. You’re right; it’s not so bad like this,” she teased, looking up at him as he towered over her. Grayson hummed, letting his hands fall to the sides of her shoulders so he could lean down to put them almost nose to nose.

“I must confess, I feel as if I’m getting the better end of this endeavor,” he murmured roughly, supporting himself with one of his solidly powerful arms as he lifted a hand to bury it into her hair, “I would seek to change that.” With no other warning, he brought them together, devouring her in a forceful meeting of lips and tongues and teeth. When she finally was allowed a second to gasp for breath, his lips did not pause, moving instead down her jaw to the column of her neck. A tiny moan slipped from her when he stopped at the point of her pulse, kissing her gently, teasing with his tongue...and then she squeaked as he set his teeth carefully but firmly into the fragile skin there. He sucked and lapped at the spot until she was writhing beneath him, and it was then that Angel realized the frustration of having her hands kept from seeking him out. 

When he was satisfied, Grayson’s mouth released her, peeking up as he ran a finger along the neckline of her dress, and her stomach tightened as she recognized it as an imitation of what she’d done to him. As he petted his way down the material to fiddle with the double rows of buttons down her front, Angel realized the ribbon she’d had belted around her waist was missing; she suddenly had a pretty good idea of what was keeping her hands above her head. Grayson’s hands kept their momentum, trailing past the end of the buttons and down to her hip. Angel had only just begun to wonder what he was planning when he shifted himself further down the bed, settling between her legs, fingertips trailing to her skirt’s hem before gliding down to stroke the exposed skin below.

“So soft,” she heard him mumble to himself, and then her breathing sped up as his hands began moving back up, below her skirt this time. The leather of his gloves was smooth and yet foreign as it skimmed over the sensitive flesh of her thighs. Higher and higher his fingers roamed in teasingly slow, circling motions as if he was tracing invisible patterns in her skin. The more he toyed with her, the higher it stoked the sparks of lust within her, so that when the pads of his thumbs brushed against her sex through her underwear, she jumped with a breathy gasp.

“G-Grayson...” she tried, pleading for _something,_ and it brought a smug smile to his lips.

“It is frustrating,” he acknowledged with a dip of his head, and then began sliding back from her just as slowly as he’d come. A protest died on her lips as she felt him dragging her panties down with him, not pausing until he’d hooked them off her ankle and then carefully set them to the side. It made her heart warm to notice him taking such care even in moments like this. Then his gaze returned to her, an eyebrow arched questioningly. “Do you wish me to stop?” 

“N-no, I- ahh...” Her thoughts ended in a small sigh as those gloved hands ran up her legs again, purposefully this time, hiking her skirt as they went to gather it around her hips. When his hands found the valley between her legs, Angel bit her lip to keep in the sounds threatening to escape her control. Large, leather-encased fingers stroked along the seam of her, barely parting her, and it only took a few of those motions before Angel was scrabbling for something for her captive hands to grab onto. That was apparently a sign Grayson had been waiting for; on the next pass of those fingers, he pressed one into her in a slow, steady stretch. 

Angel mewled, fingers clutching frantically to the lengths of the ribbon stretched between her wrists and the headboard. Grayson eased out partially and repeated the action again, stroking deeper than the first time, and then began to pick up his speed. Every motion was slightly different from the previous, correcting minute angles or the depths he was reaching or into which place he pressed, and Angel could barely think to breathe between them. When he located the bundle of nerves at her very peak with his thumb, he began applying gentle pressure that made her legs squeeze his sides reflexively.

“Ohh, my- _Grayson,_ ” she called out mindlessly, back arching as he subtly added a second finger without pausing or altering his rhythm. Sure, she was no virgin, but...she had never been brought to the heights of her pleasure with such speed and efficiency before. She mindlessly fought to reach out to still his hand; she could not find the words to tell him that if he didn’t stop and give her a second, she was going to-

“Will you give me this?” Grayson asked suggestively, words encouraging her to completion, “I will not make the next one quite so easy to achieve.”

With a sound somewhere between a shout and a moan, Angel complied.

—-

The way she gripped his fingers as she found her pleasure was nearly as intoxicating as the sight of her beauty in that moment; head tipped back, lips parted, every muscle in her body taut but stretched out on display for him and him alone. He could not possibly have enough of her. 

He slowed his motions as her body shuddered through the last of her climax, but he was nowhere near done. When she started trying to move, he leaned down to capture her lips even while his hand continued to languidly rock into her. When they broke apart, Grayson gave her a smile full of all the bright feelings in his heart and all the mischief in his plans.

“I will send you even higher,” he promised as he began layering reverent kisses onto every inch of her skin he could reach, drawing further down the bed with every one. His tongue trailed up the incline of her breast, indulgently circling a nipple as Angel gasped and arched her chest further into his mouth. The hand he did not have buried inside of her went to her hip, pressing her steadily into the mattress to hold her still as he dragged his tongue to her navel, dipping inside briefly and earning another lusciously surprised sound from Angel.

Everything about her was impossibly lovely, and Grayson was struck forcefully by a need to possess her. He wanted everything she was, wanted to claim and mark and take, wanted _so much,_ but he growled at himself as he pushed all that aside for now. He intended to ensure she had _thoroughly_ been attended to before he would indulge himself in thoughts like those. 

Instead, he gratefully savored the taste of her skin and the way she squirmed when his teeth grazed her hipbone. Finally, he withdrew his fingers from her body, and his absence made Angel whimper. He made soothing sounds to her even as his lips layered themselves along the juncture of the thigh and hip. He followed the line towards her center, her body jerking and trembling in his hold.

Shoulders braced between her parted thighs, Grayson’s mouth lingered just above her sex as he looked up the length of her body to take her in as she was in this moment. He was so close to tasting her, she surely must feel his breath on her, but as much as he wanted to savor it, it seemed she could not wait.

“Grayson,” she whined breathlessly, hips canting forward without thought, urging him on. With a slight nod of his head, Grayson obeyed all too willingly. He licked along her slit, tasting the evidence of her satisfaction, and then focused diligently on his task. His mouth worked her relentlessly, thrusting his tongue into her and then tracing and teasing the pearl at her apex. Angel cried out, twisting in her ribbon restraints as she attempted to reach, to move, to ground herself in some way. Grayson would not allow that, though; not yet. He grazed his teeth over the bundle of nerves before sucking on it gently, pulling more wordless pleas and calls from the woman before him, flowing from her in an endless stream.

When she seemed to be nearing her peak, though, Grayson alternated his tactics, stopping to teasingly trace over her, dancing his tongue over sensitive flesh that bucked and shuddered beneath it. He wanted to rile her up, to take his time; to make this a memory of him she would never forget, so long as she lived. Only when her shoulders fell back onto the bed with a plaintive moan did he redouble his efforts to bring her back to the edge. Selfishly, he began spelling his own name out on the bead of her sex with the tip of his tongue, though he knew she would not register that as what he was doing. Still, she was nearly sobbing by the time he was done.

“Please, Gray-ahh...Grayson, I can’t,” she pleaded with him, legs pressing tightly on either side of him, chest heaving- Grayson lifted his head, waiting for her to meet his gaze before smiling casually.

“Is this not satisfactory to you? Then I shall endeavor to try harder,” he said primly, belying the urgent demands his body was making known. He thrust his gloved fingers into her wetness, twisting and curling them at the same time he brought his mouth down to that delightfully sensitive little bud of nerves. Angel’s answering scream was a symphony of exquisite, long-awaited release. He drew it out, playing her body like a well-loved instrument as she convulsed through the waves of pleasure that rolled through her, and when he finally eased himself back and off the bed, he left her a limp, disheveled mess on the rumpled bedding.

“Grayson...” she finally purred weakly, a sweet sound that warmed his heart just as much as it stoked the fire blazing beneath his skin, “that was...” Her voice faded into a satisfied hum, eyes closed over a dreamy smile, and the surge of smug pride that ran through him was a powerfully heady thing. He preoccupied himself with the buttons on his own shirt, fastidiously freeing each one as he allowed himself to enjoy the knowledge that he had brought that look to her face.

“Is this dress a favorite of yours?” he questioned her offhandedly, tugging the cuffs of his sleeves over his wrists unhurriedly. She didn’t need to know how ferocious the need to take her was inside of him, how hard he was working to seem indifferent. Angel’s forehead wrinkled slightly in confusion, but she could not find the will to raise her eyelids.

“Not particularly,” she mumbled slowly as Grayson shrugged his shirt off, setting it on the back of a nearby chair.

“Excellent,” he commented, unfastening his trousers and beginning to remove those as well. “I’m not sure I have it in me to care for it properly.” Angel cracked one eye open to peek at him, which quickly turned into both eyes wide open and ogling at him as he undressed. That was another stroke to his ego; the desire in her gaze even as she laid there so thoroughly spent was unfairly tantalizing.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Grayson just smiled in response, slipping off his undergarments and then crawling back up onto the bed. He nudged her pliant legs apart enough for him to settle on his knees between them, looking down at her as his fingertips brushed along the creamy skin of her thighs.

“I cannot help myself,” he answered simply, truthfully, ducking to leave a sucking kiss to her inner leg, earning a little groan from Angel as her head rolled back and her muscles twitched. His hands finally stroked up the sides of her hips to where her skirt was gathered around her waist, and he grabbed two fistfuls of it to give himself an outlet for some of the turbulence inside him; he was so close, every fiber of his being screamed at him to lose himself within her, but... His eyes snapped up, pinning her with all the raging desire burning within them. “Will you have me?”

“ _Yes,_ ” she practically begged, her voice both a gasp and a cry. That word shredded his resistance and set loose a side of him that even he was unfamiliar with. The sound of fabric ripping accompanied Angel’s keening shout as he lifted her hips, aligned himself, and then sank into her welcome heat, unable to wait a single second longer. She fit him so well despite the size difference between them; he could have given in and lost himself to his own pleasure right then, but willed himself past it, going still as Angel shifted her hips and clenched down on his length inside her.

“Angel,” his voice rumbled through gritted teeth, and he could not keep from pulling back only to bury himself even deeper in her than before. She felt too good, impossibly tight and velvety soft, and the sounds she was making could as well have been pleading. He knew in that second he was not going to be able to take things easy for much longer. Once more, he slowly withdrew, and then Angel inadvertently sabotaged his efforts.

“I- I need...Grayson _please,_ ” she implored him urgently, knuckles white above the halo of her hair on the pillows from her violent grasp on her bonds. “I _need_ you...” The will to refrain left him completely; with a ragged gasp, Grayson gave in and thrust home before quickly beginning a punishing rhythm between them. 

It did not seem like long before the pair of them were both sweating and well beyond attempting to silence the moans, grunts, and cries that intermingled in the air. Angel was arching her hips to meet his every stroke, and he was showing her no leniency with the way he took her now, forcing her back deeply into the mattress every time his hips pistoned forward. It was impossible to doubt she was from another realm than their own; the moment was too exquisitely, intensely good to be considered anything but otherworldly. He wanted his lips on her skin urgently, but with the way he was pounding himself into her and the way sharp cries of her pleasure came every time they fully came together, he was loathe to stop.

Instead he reached down, fluidly hooking an arm beneath her knee and tugging her leg up over his shoulder. Another sound of shredding cloth accompanied their changing position, and this time when he sheathed himself within her, she exclaimed breathlessly.

“ _Yes_! Grayson!” He turned his face to press a hard kiss to the inside of her leg where it lay on his shoulder, making her throw her head back with another cry. He couldn’t take it. He could not withstand his own end any longer. Unthinkingly, he bit her right where his lips had been pressed to tender flesh when he toppled over the edge, and apparently that was enough to drag her down with him. When he finally slammed forward and then held still, he felt her clench around his length violently as he pumped himself into her until he had nothing left to give. Her entire body was trembling and twitching around him as she shuddered her way through her own climax, and as she slowly melted into the mattress, Grayson eased himself out of her and leaned forward, untying her wrists.

“Are you alright?” he questioned softly once he’d removed the ribbon and started checking her over. He had been nothing close to gentle with her then...was she harmed? She smiled up at him as he held her fingertips in his hands, making sure her circulation hadn’t been impeded.

“I’m fine,” she sighed contentedly, taking her hand back only to reach up to place it against his cheek, “More than fine. I may never move again, though.” Grayson chuckled, tension and worry leaving him completely. He collapsed to the side, stretching out next to Angel only to pull her limp form into his arms, cradling her against his chest which she snuggled into happily. A long, comfortable silence fell between them as their breathing steadied and they enjoyed each other’s closeness. 

“Angel?” The sound of her name, accompanied by a series of light taps at the door, startled the pair of them. Grayson sat up, immediately searching for his clothes; he would know that voice anywhere. “Are you busy at the moment?”

This was not good. Angel was his mistress’s closest friend. What would Princess Sherry say finding her valet here in this state? Was there a way he could get out of this room without- as he scrambled to dress, he glanced at Angel, and then hesitated. She was watching him, and the blend of emotions flitting across her face made his heart thump unevenly. Had he...upset her? 

“Uhh...now’s maybe not...the best time,” she hedged, still wearing that almost disappointed expression. “Is everything alright?”

“I’ve been searching everywhere for Grayson,” Sherry’s reply came through the door on an anxious note, and he could imagine her concerned look. “After we parted I sought him out for tea, but he was not with my dear brother, and no one I’ve come across has seen or heard of him since this morning! Then Prince Fenn suggested I come see you to ask for your assistance in a search for him.” Grayson fought the urge to groan as he finished buttoning his pant and grabbed up his shirt. Now he was shirking his duties, on top of everything else. Angel pushed herself into a seated position, biting her lip. She appeared to be struggling with what to do nearly as much as he was, though she did not share the hint of panic that he felt. 

“O-Of course, just...give me a minute to get ready, and I’ll be right out.” Grayson stared at her in disbelief, but she looked away from him as she scooted to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over the side. What was she doing? Why would she be agreeing to go out and search for him? Unless...pieces started to click together as Sherry’s voice piped up again.

“Would it be alright if I came in and waited with you? I’m afraid my imagination is running away from me, worrying over what might have happened to him. I’d feel better waiting with you.” Angel was...trying to give him a cover? If Angel left with Sherry, then he would be free to slip out undetected. Surely that was her plan, for at Sherry’s words she quickly staggered to her feet and took a step towards the door.

“Oh, just- uh...” Grayson could see she was floundering, displeasure at crafting a lie warring with her frantic attempt to find a suitable excuse plainly on her features. That made him frown and stop halfway through fixing the buttons on his shirt. That was not what he wanted to leave her with after their time together. Then she took another step towards the door, and the decision was made for him as he took in the sight of her dress- or rather, what was left of it. No gentleman could let her unknowingly be seen in public like that.

Quickly he straightened himself into his most professional posture, reaching out to capture her hand to stop her. When she turned back to look at him in confusion, he smiled slightly as he shook his head, then made for the door.

“Your Highness,” he greeted her with every ounce of decorum when he drew open the door despite his state of partial undress. _Mortifying,_ he found himself thinking as Sherry’s eyes grew as round as saucers, taking in his appearance and presence in the most unexpected of places. He drew on the familiarity of his stoic, courteous working demeanor to continue. “I apologize for my absence, as well as Miss Angel’s, but she will be unable to attend. If you will give me but a moment, I’ll bring you tea in your own chambers.” He had placed himself in front of the narrow view into Angel’s room the door created, but from where he stood, he could see both women; Angel, inside, eyes shining with something beautiful, and Sherry, outside, an all too knowing smile blooming past her shock.

“My word, Grayson! I’ve been ever so worried...but...have you been here this whole time?” She was now giving him a look one would find on a cat with a bird caught between her paws. Grayson swallowed hard, fighting the blush on his face as he lowered his eyes. He did not want to share this whole tale with her.

“No, Your Highness, I’ve had matters taking up my attentions all morning. I do deeply apologize for my failure to serve.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Angel’s hand lift towards him, but Sherry was already speaking, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Well then! Never mind about the tea, Grayson, you can bring it later. We’ll make it a tea party! I simply _must_ hear everything about this!” With an excited giggle, Sherry skipped off down the hall, undoubtedly looking for someone to share her new gossip with. Biting back another surge of embarrassment at all the attention this was going to cause, Grayson pushed the door closed again, leaving him to face Angel.

“I hope I didn’t speak on your behalf out of turn,” he began, but closed his mouth as Angel stepped close with a shy grin. She stretched up to loop her arms around his shoulders, cheeks dusting an enchanting shade of pink.

“No, I just...I thought you didn’t want her to find out,” she admitted softly, eyes focused on his chest rather than the expression her words must have brought to him. That would not do. Though he was apprehensive about his royal charges being unhappy with what he had done, if it would bring this woman any amount of peace he would shout his feelings from the very rooftops, punishment be damned. He captured her chin, tilting her face up as he brought his in close. When he spoke, their lips brushed with every word.

“For you, I would gladly accept any consequences with a light heart,” he murmured, twining his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him. “Besides, I want no one to see you like this but myself, as selfish as that wish may be.” He watched her eyes widen marginally and begin to glance down at herself, but he was kissing her before she could see what he had done. As their lips pressed, more gently than anything they had shared previously, his certainty solidified; yes, for this, for her, there was no price he would not pay.


End file.
